


Riddles

by WindRunners



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, Slow Build, You guys know that scene in titanic when jack draws rose wearing nothing but the necklace, amren is a literal drake/dragon au, conflicted feelings, drinking wine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-17 07:42:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10589508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WindRunners/pseuds/WindRunners
Summary: In which Varian meddles in forces unknown and Amren's walls are so cemented they just beg to be broken.





	1. Blood In The Breeze

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the dragon!Amren AU that no one asked for! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knows he won't see her despite the gift. Yet he can't help up wish for a glint of those silvers eyes as he lays awake listening to the dull roar of the ocean and the breeze tinkling through the windows like champagne glasses and stolen glances at dinner.

In his mind's eye, he pictures her. The soft curves of her body, the dark stain on her lips. He pictures the wine she holds, if it even is wine. The way her small hands curl around the glass, hand spun from lightning on the beaches, he remembers. He wonders what she holds in her mind with each look she had set upon him. Varian never could stop himself watching her. 

He knows he won't see her despite the gift. Knows that she won't come back unless the Night Lord and his entourage returns. Yet he can't help but wish for a glint of those silver eyes as he lays awake listening to the dull roar of the ocean and the breeze tinkling through the windows like champagne glasses and stolen glances at dinner. Tarquin's formality or not, he'd have sent her the necklace anyway. 

Tiny Ancient One, the brute called her, yet the way she said his name made him feel as though he were the tiny one, brought low by the small knife of a woman. She was just like a dagger, for all her curves couldn't disguise the sharpness about her. Deadly, still, like a poison hiding beneath the deep red of his drink, or the red on her lips...

He was lost, then, he decided. 

And when he drifted off that evening, he didn't catch the scent of spices and flames as she watched from the edge of the prince's balcony, petting the rubies and diamonds at her throat.

\--- --- ---

When Varian awoke, it was noon and there was a storm raging on the water as though someone had incited a riot in the middle of the ocean. The salt spray flung everywhere and felt like a cool mist on his warm face. He stood nude on the balcony, knowing no one would be out in this weather. White curls cascade down his back, a deep contrast to the dark skin of his people. 

He pondered many things, mostly revolving around the woman known as the fire drake. Ever reclusive, ever hoarding her treasures. He wondered if he should send Amren another gift, wondered if it were too soon, if she would grow suspicious. He wondered if she even liked the first, unaware of its resting place in her clutches as she slept or the way she would watch him in the night with it around her neck, its centerpiece resting at the hollow of her throat. 

The prince of such a lovely kingdom, and yet he could not help but wish to be anywhere but there. Miles across the water and lands of Prythian was the woman who's touch he dreamt of, imagined. He wondered if he'd ever get to feel her, kiss her. Varian wondered a lot of things. After all, with peace on the horizon he hadn't much else to do; he had much more time to worry about a woman he barely knew who spent most of her time in his court ignoring him and whether she would prefer more rubies or another jewel. 

He felt foolish then, and stepped back into his chambers, growing chilly and deciding a bath was in order. He'd peruse the treasury for something later; in the mean time, he thought, breakfast and a book would be nice on a day such as this.

\--- --- ---

Amren perched on a large outcrop overlooking the waters, watching them toil and thrash, threatening to overtake the island Varian's vacation home was on. Truly, it looked like another castle, and she wrinkled her nose with derision. Who was this fae prince to have such riches? She found herself unable to answer but also unable to care. 

The drake knew not, but something coiled into her stomach as she watched him on the balcony. A feeling she had long forgotten. Lust, perhaps? No, it couldn't be. She wasn't capable of such. At least, t'was her belief. She watched him disappear back within his bed chambers. 

Mayhap she would pay him a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from I See Fire - Ed Sheeran
> 
> Let me know what you think, I'm kinda just running with it lol


	2. Drain The Whole Sea, Get Something Shiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a pawn, in this game the high lords play he is nothing but a pawn. But to be a pawn by a queen like her's side is just absolute bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any kudos was more than I expected, and as many hits as this has gotten just blows my mind. ;_; You are all amazing??????? Thank you so much for reading this, and sorry for such a delay!
> 
> Warning!! Hints of nsfw below!! 
> 
> Chapter title is Take Me To Church by Hozier!

In the end, he is asleep when she slithers through the open doors of his balcony, clothed in nothing but the moonlight and the seawater that clings to her skin from the evening mist and the crash of the waves closer to the coast, and, as she gently pets the jewels, the necklace he sent her after Tarquin's feigned threat; she paid that one no mind, and didn't take the blood rubies seriously. She must admit she rather likes the sight of his own nudity, his body chiseled and dark against the white sheets; the slight rise and fall of his chest, the bob of his throat as he swallows hard, the twitching of the bulge that is rising beneath the sheets. She tries not to let her eyes stay glued to that spot at his middle, instead taking her eyes against his face, brow furrowed with a bead of sweat at his temple. Lower lip worried between sharp canines.

She takes the opportunity to creep closer, silver eyes practically glowing in the night as of she were a predator, queen of the jungle, and he were nothing but sleeping and unaware prey for her. Finally, after what feels like hours and seconds at the same time, she's beside him, watching him breathe and furrow, the hard lines of his hips tilting up here and there as that sinful mountain under the covers takes hold. She drags her fingertips over his throat, down his chest, practically petting his abdomen and when his eyes fly open as her hand meets just below his navel, she is nowhere to be found, and Varian is left wondering, was it truly a dream he was having, of the vixen with the dark hair and that to-die-for smirk? 

He doesn't fall back asleep that night. No, he is left turning and mumbling about the inferno that his blood is within him, blood that pulses through the vein in his neck that Amren can visibly see with every second that passes. She watches him, and he knows he is being watched but cannot for the life of him find anyone in the room. He thinks he's hallucinating when he sees a fairly-crimson shimmer in the moonlight that barely reaches the furthest corner of his room. But she knows he's not. 

And the next day when he awakes, he is in no mood for Tarquin's meetings, no mood for parlaying with the Day court and certainly no mood for playing host to the Spring court, of all people. He never had much a liking for Tamlin and his brute ways, always preferred his Autumn counterpart. However, he bit his tongue. The more meetings, the higher the chance the Night court would return, hopefully to make right with Tarquin what was wronged to begin with. If they returned, so too did she... 

He took the thought from his mind, focusing on the meeting instead. Or trying to. His mind wandered, wondered. Would she gaze upon him? Would she smile, would she laugh? Would the spend hours sitting beside each other, him watching her with intrigue and she ignoring him with a delightful curl to her lips that told him her attention was in fact on nothing BUT him? He's a pawn, in this game the high lords play he is nothing but a pawn. But to be a pawn by a queen like her's side is just absolute bliss, he thinks. Bliss. 

Varian jumps when Tarquin calls for him, looking for all the world like a child who just woke from the most wonderfully confusing dream. He cocks his head to the side, as if asking what Tarquin wants. 

The highlord sighs before repeating the question. The prince still isn't paying full attention. 

He nods. 

"Then it is settled. A ball, to be held in three week's time, in celebration our newfound alliance."

A ball. A disaster, he thinks.


End file.
